


The Fox & the Trapper

by Novalinx



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-26
Updated: 2013-08-26
Packaged: 2017-12-24 18:48:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/943393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Novalinx/pseuds/Novalinx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The team investigates a case in Georgia where they learn that not everything is at it seems and sometimes, fairy tales might be true.</p>
<p>Story is set before Emily leaves.<br/>Contains some made up stories about the supernatural... or, you know, maybe they're real.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fox & the Trapper

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2013 Criminal Minds Big Bang  
> Special thanks to my betas over on livejournal: bookgenius and writing2death
> 
> Awesome artwork goes along with this by twisted-slinky at http://twisted-slinky.livejournal.com/78974.html
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

The alarm wakes Hotch, who reaches over a lump in his bed to turn it off. The lump turns out to be Jack, the light from the TV just showing his features and picking up on the stray bits of popcorn that were scattered around the bed.

“Mph,” he scrubbed his face and wondered when he swallowed a gym sock. Definitely fell asleep before brushing his teeth last night. With a sniff he began to shuffle out of the bed, careful to let his son sleep. 

A shower made him feel human again, starting breakfast made him feel like a responsible parent. Those little jugs of pancake batter were a brilliant invention. When everything was ready to cook, he headed back upstairs to wake his son.

“Jack,” Hotch said quietly, shaking his son's shoulder gently. “Come on, buddy, it's time to get up.”

Jack grumbled and buried deeper into the blankets.

“No?” was asked with a chuckle. “I thought you were looking forward to telling your friends about our trip to the zoo?”

One eye slowly opened to stare shrewdly at Hotch.

“Ah, there you are,” Hotch smiled. “I distinctly remember a reenactment of the lion feeding that we saw. Something about how wide they got their jaws?”

Jack huffed out a breath and closed his eye again.

“Hm, sorry buddy. I know you're awake. Out of bed, get washed up, I put clothes out for you, and while we have breakfast, you can practice your lion roars.”

With a soft sigh, Jack rolled out of bed and stumbled out of the bedroom, heading down the hall and towards his own room. 

Hotch watched him go with a soft smile before turning to the mess that was his bedroom. With a sigh matching his son's, he began to clean up the mess left from the impromptu movie party.

After a feeble attempt to brush bits of popcorn onto the floor, he gives up and goes to check on his son.

Which turned out to be a good thing, as Jack was imitating the ducks by splashing about in the sink.

“Jack,” Hotch admonished, “That's not what I asked you to do.”

Jack looked up with wide eyes, “But it's fun, Daddy!”

“I'm sure it is, but I asked you to get washed up for school.”

Jack's expression quickly went from exuberant to crestfallen Which succeeded in his goal of getting out of trouble.

Hotch sighed, “Come on, let's clean up here, then go for breakfast. We'll have to eat fast, save the lion roars for another day.”

“Ok, Daddy,” Jack dutifully helped his father clean the bathroom. Breakfast was quick. Jack still managed a few roars while chewing, much to his father's amusement.

“Alright Buddy, check your backpack and get your shoes, it's time to go.” While Jack ran off to finish preparing for school, Hotch checked his suitcase and left a quick note for their cleaning lady, Maddie, apologizing for the extra mess.

He scooped up his keys from their hook on the wall, called again for his son, and the two went out the door to start their days.

***************

Arriving at his office at the BAU, Hotch came face to face with a pile of paperwork. It had been worth it to leave it on Friday and spend the weekend with his son, but now? He was regretting that decision. 

Nothing to do, but to do it, he thought grimly. A quick scan revealed that the pile was mostly reports of past cases, nothing too strenuous or immediately needed. Hotch settled in for a day of boring paperwork, half hoping and half dreading that they would get a case.

***************

It wasn't until after lunch that JJ stopped by his office with a case that had the chance of becoming complicated.

"It's not as bad as some," JJ explained, with a pained expression about describing any of their cases as 'not so bad.' "But the latest victim has political connections."

Hotch was already flipping through the files, "What kind of connections?"

"His father is the mayor, and his uncle is the Assistant Governor."

"Wonderful, let's try and keep an eye on Rossi, Morgan might need some watching too."

JJ grinned, "Will do, sir."

"OK, go ahead and call the others to the meeting room, I'll be there in a second."

JJ gathered up the files and headed towards the conference room. Hotch pulled out his cell phone to call Jessica and let her know he had a case. When that call was over, he called Jack's school to let them know his aunt would be picking him up at the end of the day.

Calls done, he picked up his own files and followed the same path JJ took through the BAU bullpen.

*********

Walking into the conference room, Hotch noticed that his team seemed as relaxed as he felt. The weekend off had been good for all of them.

"I hope you all are prepared for a tough case, because we certainly have one." Hotch announced as he settled into his seat at the head of the table. "When you're ready, JJ."

JJ nodded and picked up the remote for the projector. "Our first vic is Carla Barnes, a 28 year old Caucasian woman." The screen showed a picture of a haggard looking brunette. "She was found October 14th, 2008, laid out in an alley near a church in West Norton, Georgia." The next picture showed a body laid out with arms crossed over her chest.

"Is... has she been skinned?" asked Rossi, leaning forward to see the screen better.

"Yes," Hotch confirmed.

"A year ago?" Prentiss asked. "This guy has been killing people for over a year and we're just now hearing about it?"

"There's a reason for that," Hotch interjected, "JJ will get to it once she goes over all the victims." He turned back to JJ, "Please continue."

"She was found by a local college student. Tox reports show evidences of heroin and a type of sedative, although the coroner had no idea if the sedative was taken willingly or not. Her right ankle was crushed, the coroner, a Doctor Eli Mather compared it to what a spring coil animal trap does. Although he couldn't definitively say what had done the damage."

"OK, we’ve got the injuries, messed up ankle, skinned. No leads?" Morgan asked.

"Barely any investigation. Barnes was a known heroin addict who occasionally prostituted herself for money. She had no living relatives. Case was closed as a one off, although the detectives thought she was probably killed by her pimp. They couldn't pin anything on him. They never found her skin. Case officially unsolved, but got "lost" on a shelf," JJ explained, complete with finger quotes.

"Next victim." The screen showed a tired looking African American male. "This is Avery James. He was found February 18th, 2009, in an abandoned bar on the outer edge of West Norton." The screen changed to show James laid out like Barnes, with his arms crossed over his chest and skinless. "His right wrist was crushed."

"Skinning a human can't be easy, can it?" asked Emily uneasily.

Rossi leaned back in his chair contemplatively. "Once you learn how, skinning an animal isn't that difficult. Probably the hardest part would be the size of a human. Although deer can out weight a hunter and those are often skinned out in the woods."

"So it's possible." replied Emily.

"Yes, maybe not as hard as we think if the guy who did this had practice. Do we have the coroner's reports to see about marks on the muscles?" Rossi asked.

JJ nodded. "James' case followed the same path Barnes' did. A supposedly recovered alcoholic, divorced, no contact with his ex wife or kids, no living immediate family. When he was found dead, his ex, Desiree, reportedly said she was surprised it hadn't happened sooner."

"Another case where no one cared that someone died," Morgan grumbled.

"So why are we hearing about this now?" Reid asked. "We have two cases of people who died and no one cared, what case do they care about?"

A new pictures appeared on the screen, a clean cut, blond, twenty something male. "This is Winston Garrett II. He was found like the others, skinned, crushed right ankle, and laid out behind a French restaurant in West Norton."

"Looks and sounds like he thinks he's important," Rossi observed.

"You'd be right," Hotch replied. "Garrett here is the son of the mayor, Winston Garrett I, he's also the nephew of Albert Garrett, the assistant governor of Georgia."

"Great," groaned Morgan, "Politicians."

Hotch nodded, "Let JJ and I handle them," was said with a stern look at Rossi.

Rossi grinned and held his hands up, "You are more than welcome to deal with 'em!"

Hotch's lips twitched into a quick smile. "Thanks. Wheels up in 45." He turned to Garcia, "You're coming with us."

"I am?" the tech asked hesitantly.

"It's not far, the case itself doesn't look like it'll be too difficult, and I want you to have some more experience traveling with us. Unless you don't want to go?"

"No! No, I totally want to go, I love the jet! I just..." she trailed off.

"You still have your go bag, don't you?"

"Yes, yes, it's just..." she flapped her hands for a moment. "I'm not use to this and what about my computers! How will I help without them?"

Hotch blinked at her. "You have a laptop. The police station will have the connections you need, they've already been informed you're coming. Everything will be fine."

Garcia took a deep breath. "Right, everything will be fine. I'll just go get my bag. Then make my stud muffin carry it! This will be awesome!" She left the room quickly, yelling out to the others "I get first pick on seats!"

"Maybe taking her isn't a good idea." Hotch muttered to himself.

*****************

The plane ride was short, and it was quiet while the agents looked over the notes for the case. 

It stayed quiet until Morgan looked up to take a short break and noticed a furrow on Reid's brow and the shuffling of his paperwork.

"Lose something Reid?" Morgan asked, more than ready for something to take his mind off the case details.

"I didn't, but I think the West Norton PD might have." He fell silent as he seemed to find what he was looking for.

By now, he had everyone's attention.

"Spence?" JJ prodded.

"At Garrett's crime scene, the pictures show what looks like a charm from a bracelet. Evidence log says it is a fox from a new line of jewelry from a store that had gone out of business two years ago. And here," he turned another picture so the others could so it, it was of Barnes' crime scene. "There," he pointed at one of the evidence flags. "That there looks almost exactly the same as the one in Garrett's picture, but beyond the notation in the evidence logs, the actual item doesn't exist."

Rossi frowned and picked up his file with the paperwork for James' crime scene. He silently flipped through pages until he looked up and met Reid's, then Hotch's eyes. "The same for James. A fox charm was photographed at the scene, marked into evidence. It never made it into the evidence box."

Hotch was silent for a minute, then turned to Garcia to add searches to her list.

"Already ahead of you, boss man. Look for the owners of the jewelry store, find out who had access to the evidence boxes."

"Thank you, Garcia. This could help us or hurt us. Hopefully it's not an inside job of the police department. Any other insights?"

"Are there any hunting stores in West Norton?" Emily asked. "I'd like to know where our unsub could get the spring coil trap, and they may know where the ideal places to hunt are."

Garcia was furiously typing for a minute. "Just one jewelry store, Charming Silver, closed in 2007, owners were Fred and Gloria Geuns. No record of either of them still in West Norton, I'll keep looking. As for hunting... a place called Marty's, all signs point to it still being open."

"Excellent, thank you."

Before Hotch could continue, the pilot announced that they would be landing shortly. The team quickly packed up their files and settled into their seats. 

*****************

The FBI agents were met at the Middle Georgia Regional Airport in Macon by two West Norton Detectives. Both were dressed in slacks and button down shirts. One was a good six inches taller than the other, with dark hair, a receding hairline, and a bright smile. The other had light brown hair swept back in the current fashion and a mass of freckles on his face. The taller of the two, William Thomas, smiled as he greeted the BAU.

"Thank you folks so much for coming. This case has us baffled, and dealing with the mayor? Not good for anyone's nerves."

"It's what we do best, an outside perspective is always helpful." Hotch replied.

"I brought down two cars to take us to the department. It's a twenty minute drive, there abouts. Do you want us to stop for something to eat first?"

Hotch glances back at his team, there were faint nods coming from most of them.

"Something to eat would be wonderful, can you recommend a quick place with a nice variety?" 

"Sure can! Let's get you loaded into the cars. Harry! Oh, right, everyone, this is my partner Detective Harold Anderson. Harry, grab that bag there, faster we get it loaded, the faster we can go to Sylvie's!"

"Sylvie's?" Harry questioned. "Right on."

"So, Sylvie's is good?" Morgan asked with a grin.

"The best," Harry answered. "Pretty sure it's the whole reason Will agreed to come pick you up. Especially since we stopped there on the way in."

"Ah," Emily hummed for a second. "He like one of the waitresses?"

"Nah, he's sweet on the owner. Luckily, she's just as sweet on him. Can get really annoying after a while, but they'll cut it short since we're working."

"Sylvie's got good food?"

"The best," he grinned, realizing he's repeating himself. "Just like mom use to make. You'll be fed enough to last for the rest of the day."

"Just what we need," Morgan agreed.

*************

Lunch was finished quickly, Sylvie's proving to be as good as the detectives claimed. Anderson was also right about Thomas and Sylvie having a thing. It had been vaguely cute to watch, but once the team was fed, they were more than ready to get started on the case.

The twenty minute drive went quietly, with the respective drivers pointing out landmarks of the small city. They passed the abandoned bar where Avery James was found, so the FBI team paid attention to everything their impromptu tour guides said.

Once at the police department, the BAU quickly set up the room they were provided with. The room started with the bare essentials, a conference table and enough chairs for everyone, a couple bulletin boards, a dry erase board, and various cables. After years of practice the team had gotten set up down to a science. The maps were pinned to one bulletin board, the other was covered with the crime scene images. Rossi began writing out the questions they had come up with on the dry erase board while Garcia hooked up her equipment. Her final touch was a pink haired troll doll placed carefully on the table.

Once everyone was settled, Hotch turned to Detective Thomas, who had just returned from checking in with his chief and checking his messages.

“What can we expect now that we're here?”

“Nothing except the mayor breathing down our necks. He'll probably show up at some point and demand an update. Some journalists, we've done out best to keep this quiet, but I bet dollars to donuts the mayor will leak it soon if he doesn't get results he wants”

"Results he wants?" Rossi asked.

Thomas shrugged, "A perpetrator. One that keeps up the pristine image of the Garrett family."

Hotch signed. “We can't report what we don't know. When we do know something, it will be as factual as we can make it. If the mayor's son looks bad because of it, that's not my problem. Rossi, you and Emily head to the crime scene. JJ, you and Morgan go to the first site. Reid and I will hit site number two. Garcia,” Hotch turned toward the tech.

She was already scribbling furiously, “Look for other victims in the area and if the victims have any connections that may have been missed. Check on the jewelry store owners, and...” she trailed off as she snuck a peek at the detective. "And check on city employees during the course of the known murders," she finished diplomatically.

“Perfect. Also see if there have been any incidents of mutilated animals in the area.”

Garcia looked up, eyes wide. “You think he started with animals?”

“I don't know what to think yet, but it's a good possibility.” He turned to the detective, “Can you spare anyone to help?”

“Whatever you need,” Thomas agreed.

“Let's meet back here around six and compare notes.”

*****************

JJ, Morgan, and Detective Andy Morris headed out to the alleyway near St. Patrick's church. On the way there, Detective Morris told the FBI agents a little about the area.

"This area use to be the up and coming part of West Norton. Not really sure what happened to it, but who really knows why these things happen. Anyway, bad crowds started to move in. The community college over in Preston has their freshman sign up for community service to try and clean up the area."

"That's why Selma Perkins found Barnes' body, right?" JJ asked.

"You betcha," Morris nodded her head, her blond curls bouncing. "She was signed up to help at the breakfast shift at the church's soup kitchen."

Morgan was watching the scenery pass by. "When the police did the interviews, had anyone seen anything else?"

"Not that I recall, I was just barely into my second year then, not high enough to even get to hang out near the dead bodies, you know? Although most of the scut work was pushed on us, so I did do quite a few of the interviews. I'll dig out my case notes if you'd like."

"We would appreciate it," JJ said.

Morris grinned in the rearview mirror at her, "I bet. Anyway, a couple people said they had seen the same thing Selma did, a foot laying out under a blanket, but with how the area is? They all thought it was some homeless person sleeping."

"You helped do interviews?" Morgan asked, as she pulled the car into an empty spot in the church parking lot.

"Sure did, why?"

"Do you happen to remember anyone mentioning a piece of jewelry, a charm that looked like a fox?"

Morris frowned in thought as she locked the car doors and led the way towards the alley. "Sorry, I don't remember. Like I said, I was called in after the body had been taken by the coroner, only got a quick glimpse of the scene before it was all packed up."

"That's alright, we were just asking." Morgan soothed.

"Well," Morris said, "here's the alley." 

The two agents were silent as they took in the alley. It was dim, with little light coming in, and obviously ignored unless someone had a reason to be there. The perfect place to hide a body.

An amused snort from the detective caused them both to glance back at where she stood near the entrance.

"What is it?" JJ asked.

"Oh, it's silly. You asking after a fox charm just made me remember when I was little. There's this awesome old lady who volunteers at the library and tells us kids stories. Some of the more popular ones were about these people who could turn into foxes. Man, we ate them up."

"Is this lady still around?"

"Babcia Lidka? Yeah, she lives in Restwood Homes, a retirement community a couple miles from here. I've heard she still tries to make it down to the library every once and a while to tell her stories."

JJ and Morgan glanced at each other.

"We're not going to get much more here, do you think we could swing by before we head back?" Morgan asked.

"Don't see why not. Are you sure you've seen everything?"

JJ sighed, "This is a year old crime scene. The crime didn't even occur here, it's just a body dump. It's highly doubtful anything was overlooked at the time. We'll go over everything again, but if there was anything left, I'm sure it's long gone."

Morris nodded, "Ok, you do your thing and I'll call Restwood and see if Babcia is up for visitors."

JJ turned to Morgan after Morris walked a short distance away, "Babcia is a weird first name, don't you think?"

"Yeah," Morgan answered. "Let's get this over with, then call Hotch and let him know what we're doing."

It didn't take them long to go over the alleyway, and just as they suspected, they found nothing new. They exited the alleyway and rejoined Morris.

"We're in luck," she announced, "The Restwood receptionist says that Babcia is always more than happy to have visitors, we can head over there now."

"Great, let me call Hotch and let him know where we'll be," Morgan said. He hit the speed dial on his phone as they made their way back to the church. "Hotch? Yeah, there's nothing left here, dark, out of the way, perfect place to dump a body. Detective Morris mentioned a lady who use to tell stories about foxes, so we're heading there now, she might remember someone who was really into the stories. Her name?" He glance at Morris, "Babcia Lidka? Kinda weird. Oh, I didn't know that. Ok, right, see you at six." He hung up with a bewildered look on his face.

"What is it?" JJ asked.

"Hotch said Babcia means grandmother in Polish."

"Uh, yeah," Morris said, "Did you think that was her first name? Everyone calls her that, she's really an involved member of the community. Her real name is Lidka Adams."

"Anything else we should know about her?" asked JJ.

"She uh... well, she grew up in Poland during the Holocaust. Doesn't really talk about it much, she use to give lectures at the high school for it, but gave that up about ten years ago. Told me once that she spent enough time thinking about it, now she wants to think happy thoughts."

The drive to the retirement community was completed in silence. Once there, Morris led the way through the manicured gardens to the front door. A quick stop at the reception desk told them that Babcia Lidka was in her rooms on the second floor.

At Babcia's room, Detective Morris knocked on the door. "Babcia? It's Andy, I called earlier to visit."

"Yes, yes, I may be old, but I remember more than you've forgotten," said a little old lady as she opened the door to let them in. "In, in, Jerry Springer is on soon and I hate to miss it."

"Haven't you seen them all yet, Babcia?" Morris asked with a grin, sitting where Babcia gestured.

"Oh, probably, the actually shows don't change much, but the people do. Very interesting. Now, who are these two young people?"

"Babcia, these are FBI Special Agents JJ Jareau and Derek Morgan, they work with the Behavioral Analysis Unit. They're here looking into Winston Garrett's death."

"The mayor died?" Babcia asked while shaking the agents hands.

"No, ma'am," JJ answered, "his son did."

"Ah, that brat. Couldn't have happened to a nicer person." she sneered.

"Ma'am?" Morgan questioned, concerned about the lack of concern for a person's life.

"Oh," Babcia waved a hand, "don't get me wrong, it's sad when a person dies, but Winston? Resting on laurels he never earned."

"What do you mean?"

"His father is mayor, Winston seemed to think that should get him through life. The mayor worked damned hard to get his job, became mayor before his brother become the assistant governor. The son? He's never worked hard a day in his life. But, you didn't come here to listen to my opinions on politics. On the phone, Andy said you were interested in my fairy tales."

"Yes, at each of the scenes there was a small, silver fox charm. Detective Morris said it made her think of you and your stories. Do you remember anyone being overly interested?"

"Hm..." Babcia leaned back in her chair. "Well, Andy here use to come early on Saturday mornings and bring me pictures of the foxes. I'm pretty sure she didn't murder those people. Let me think for a bit, any other questions?"

"Yes," Morgan said, pulling out a business card and handing it over. "Were there any stories of something special about their skin?"

"It depends on what creation story you believe. There's one that says Were Foxes were created by witches and wizards. It's possible that someone would believe that has left a... magical trace of some sort on the pelt. The problem is this, Agents," Babcia leaned forward. "All the stories I know say that once a Were dies, it reverts to it's human form."

Morgan and JJ glanced at each other. "So, hypothetically," JJ said, "If a Were fox," she hesitated on the term, but Babcia nodded her approval, "If one was out enjoying a night run as a fox, stepped into an animal trap and got stuck... whoever skinned them would have to do it while they were still alive?"

"Yes, which also means that your criminal has human skins stored somewhere in their home."

"But it wouldn't matter," Morgan argued, "Were Foxes are just stories."

Babcia sat back, "Seems to me everything is just a story until you find the truth. But, you're right. These are just stories. You find your criminal, you still have no proof that my stories are true."

"We have some time before we have to get back to the station, will you tell us your stories?" JJ asked.

"I would be delighted, how about I get some refreshments before we get started, is coffee ok?" Babcia was up and moving towards the kitchenette before anyone could answer.

The agents stayed for almost two hours, listening to Babcia Lidka's stories of Were Foxes in Poland. JJ's favorite was about a Were Fox that helped gnomes take care of the animals in the forests.

When they realized how late it was, they thanked her for her time and prepared to leave.

"If you think of any names, please be sure to call us," JJ told Babcia again.

"I will, dear. It was nice having you all visit. Might be getting too old to go down to the library."

"Never!" Morris exclaimed, "You'll outlive us all!"

"If only."

"I can't wait to tell Hotch about all this," Morgan said to JJ in an undertone, unfortunately for him, Babcia had sharp ears.

"Hotch? Who is Hotch?"

"Um," Morgan answered, caught off guard. "Aaron Hotchner, he's our supervisor, the unit chief."

"Hotchner? That's sounds like a Polish name," Babcia had a small, curious smile on her face.

"It might be, ma'am, I've never asked." Morgan threw a confused look at JJ.

"Names are important," Babcia murmured. "As for your case," she said slightly louder, "you may want to check Karen Chambers, Gary Mason, and Melanie Watkins. Most children begin to lose interest in my stories when they hit puberty. Those three stayed around through high school."

"Friends?" Morgan asked, making a note for later.

"Gary and Melanie were. Karen is a few years younger and a bit of a loner."

"Thank you ma'am, we'll look into it," JJ acknowledged, then followed the detective and Morgan out of the retirement community.

*****************

One of the earliest stories of Werecreatures comes out of the Garden of Eden. The story goes that when Lilith was cast out, a doorway was created. 

A doorway that the more inquisitive creatures of the garden couldn't ignore for long. In small groups, animals such as crows, foxes, raccoons, and many others that are infuriatingly curious left the garden. 

After a few days of investigating, the animals would return to the doorway, ready to go back to their homes. Only to discover that the door was exit only and they couldn't return. 

Instead of panicking, the animals chose to make the most of their situation. They explored more, going further and further. There were no humans here to set the rules. The animals could do what they wanted. Claiming land for themselves. Making their own rules. Enjoying their freedom. 

The only thing they missed were human hands. The humans in the garden had helped with injuries, complicated births, and traps. Raccoons did what they could, but their hands were small and not as flexible as the hands of humans.

There was nothing to be done though, they couldn't go back to get help from the humans, all that was left to do was adapt.

And adapt they did. How they did it is unknown, but somehow several of the animals managed to alter their forms. Changing from their natural animal form into a human form. It was never permanent. Just intended to do the things that those with four paws found difficult.

Over the generations, those that could change mated with others that could. Slowly a divide was created. The Werecreatures, as they were now called, still interacted with the other animals, but kept their distance all the same. Like calls to like, after all.

Things were pleasant though. Everyone got along, helped out when it was needed. Yes, there was death and some animals ate others, but it was natural, expected. Life was simple.

One day, it all changed. The humans left the garden. It was the man they had heard stories about... with a woman they had not. There were other differences. The pair seemed to be ashamed of their forms. Covering themselves with leaves and, horrifically, the skins of animals. 

They were watched and everyone kept their distance from the humans. No one understood why they suddenly left the garden, only knowing that there had appeared to be a dark cloud with furious lightening and terrifying thunder shortly before their arrival.

With the humans came other animals, those who hadn't been tempted by the mystery of the door. There were happy reunions between families that had been separated. Most of the newly arrived animals seemed to accept the changes the Weres had undergone. Survival was important, all creatures understood that.

While the animals were accepting, the humans were... less so. Of course, at first the humans had little to do with the wildlife. They were focused on building their own home, finding food, and reproducing. Which they did surprisingly fast considering human infants took so long to mature.

As the human settlement grew, their need for food outgrow any memory of a peaceful existence with the animals. Now, the creatures of the woods were seen as food, not companions or equals. 

The Weres stepped up and sent an emissary to talk to the humans. Animals understand the circle of life, but the humans took more than they needed. The meeting went well, the humans agreed to hunt only what they needed and to store minimal supplies. 

The next season, a drought hit. 

Everyone struggled to survive, and those that could left to find new homes. Those that couldn't fought to survive with the others. 

The humans were relentless. They killed anything in order to have enough to eat. Entire animal communities were wiped out. 

The braver animals took to stealing supplies, if they were caught, they would join the human larder. The Weres turned out to be the best at this theft, sneaking in as humans, then leaving what they took on the edge of the village to be picked up later. 

It didn't take long for humans to become suspicious of any outsiders, and the luck of the Weres soon ran out. 

Strangers were met with weapons out and harsh words. Those who managed to charm their way further into the villages walked a thin line. Still, the trickery and stealing continued.

Until the humans caught a Were leaving supplies for other animals to pick up. They chased after him, throwing spears and rocks. The Were reacted with instinct, switching to his coyote form in order to get away.

The humans hadn't seen the switch before that, they had no idea it was possible. Now they watched everyone and everything suspiciously. More and more animals were killed, not just for food, but to keep the thefts down. Any and all newcomers to the village were kept in isolation for several days, only given the bare necessities before being trusted within the population. Even then, they were watched closely.

These extremes made it difficult for the Weres and other animals to survive. They didn't understand what happened to the accord that had been reached before the drought, when the humans had agreed to take only what they needed. 

The Weres left the human settlements, finding new homes away from the humans. They passed on stories as warnings: keep away from the humans, they're dangerous.

*****************

Hotch, Reid, and Detective Anderson headed to the site where Avery James' body was found.

"What's the bar's history?" Hotch asked during the drive.

"Nothing exciting. Use to be a biker bar. Got shut down in 2006, turned out the owner didn't have a liquor license and wasn't keeping up with fire codes. Since then, it's been opened and closed by different people about 6 times? The city's grown away from it, hard to get customers willing to drive out this far."

"Finding a dead body probably didn't help," mused Reid.

"No, probably not. The place had a bad reputation even before that. Women were advised to not go alone, always keep an eye on their drinks, that kind of thing. Guys were warned to watch what they said. Not that it helped. I think an ambulance patrolled this part of the city during the bar's hours because they knew they'd be called at least once."

"Sounds like a great place," Hotch said while looking at crime scene photos.

"If you were looking for a fight, yeah."

"Did James have any connection to the bar before he died?"

Anderson nodded his head, "James had a drinking problem, everyone knew about it and the Grind was his, well, favorite isn't the right word, but it was the bar he went to the most. That's what makes it all very weird."

"What does?"

"James was on the wagon, had been for at least 2 years before he died. When the Grind closed, he turned his life around. Suppose his only downfall was that he kept getting hired at the bars that tried to open in the Grind's place."

"Hired doing what?" Hotch asked.

"Um... bouncer a few times, bartender a time or two. Really, the only stuff he knew was related to bars."

"Is that something most people were aware of?"

"Those that new him, sure." Anderson pulled the car into the abandoned parking lot. Weeds were growing up through the asphalt, potholes that could have been used as swimming pools littered the area. "Here we are."

After exiting the car, Hotch and Reid stared at the abandoned bar.

"When was the last time someone tried to reopen it?" Reid asked.

"Oh, about four months ago. It was open for a grand total of twelve days, then shut down and the owners left town. It's been repossessed by the bank. I think the bank is hoping either a farmer or a developer will want it, because they aren't doing anything else with it."

"Right. Can you show us where James was found?"

"Right-o. This way, gentlemen." The detective led the way behind the bar and near the back entrance. "This is usually where the dumpsters go, we've caught a few drug deals going on here. James may have been an alcoholic, but he wasn't an addict."

"No, but Barnes was. It may be a connection."

"I don't know about that, sir." Anderson objected, 

"You knew James?" Hotch asked with a lifted eyebrow.

"Met him a few times once he cleaned up. Said he wanted to prove to his wife he was better, be there for his kids, teach them about their heritage."

Reid looked up from where he was studying the bar's dilapidated siding, "What was so important about his heritage?"

A shrug was the reply. "I think James' great grandfather was one of the first freedmen to settle the area. Meant a lot to him that his kids new their family had made something of themselves."

"Did they?"

"Sure, the James' started up the Morning Star Inn, the one we got you all booked into. There's no family left except for James' kids, so it's not family owned anymore. But it meant a lot to Avery that his family had a successful business."

Hotch hummed and glanced at Reid. "Did Avery sell the business?"

"Nah, his father did. Got a good offer, meant he could pay for Avery to go to college."

"Good reason," Reid murmured.

"Detective, the evidence logs state there was a fox charm find near the body, do you know anything about it? It's not longer in the evidence box."

"A charm?" Anderson shook his head, "can't say I remember any of that. Will'll know better than me."

"We'll be sure to ask him when we get back."

"There's a lot of open land out here, Hotch," Reid said, gazing into the woods. "Do people hunt here?" he asked Anderson.

"They aren't supposed to. Especially when the bar is open, but there are always those who think they know better than the law."

"What kind of hunters do you have here?"

"Mostly rifle, a couple are pretty good with bow and arrow."

"And game?"

"Nothing big, if that's what you're wondering. Some deer, turkey, rumor says there were bears here at one time, but no one has seen any in a while. Then there's the birds, further south they have gators."

"What about for trapping? With a coil snare?" Reid asked.

"Ugh, those things are nasty. Let me think... fox, possums, otters, weasels, bobcats, minks, skunks, and muskrats. The kind of trap you're talking about has to be smaller than 5.75 inches. Which is a good size for catching the animals I mentioned, not so good for people."

"True, maybe the unsub set up an illegal trap? Possibly using a legal trap with a captured animal as bait?"

"Maybe, so far I'm not seeing much about any of our victims saying they would help a defenseless animal. Except for James, it doesn't look like Barnes or Garrett ever left the city proper," Hotch countered Reid's hypothesis.

Reid huffed, "I haven't gotten my maps together yet, so how would I know?"

"You read the same reports I did," Hotch smirked.

Before Reid could reply, Hotch's phone rang. "Hotchner," he announced. "Morgan, how's it going?" He was quiet for a minute. "Grandmother," he said randomly. "OK, see you at six."

"What?" Reid asked once he hung up the phone.

"JJ and Morgan are going to see a Babcia Lidka about some fairy tales that are told to the kids here?" He said, looked at Anderson.

"Yeah, Babcia tells the best stories. A lot of them are about the people who can turn into foxes. She's been telling them for ages."

Hotch and Reid shared a look. "Anyone stick out as overly interested?"

Anderson hummed, "Not that I remember, although it's been about 15 years since I listened to them. I know the wife takes the kidlets down on Saturdays, but she hasn't mentioned anything about it."

"Well, it's something to look into." Hotch took another look around the abandoned parking lot. "I don't think we're going to find much else here. How far away is the sporting goods store?"

"Marty's?" Anderson clarified, at Hotch's nod, he continued. "We'll pass it on the way back, you want to stop there?"

"Yes, they may be able to tell us more about the traps used."

"You're the boss," Anderson led the way back to the car.

"What are you thinking?" Reid asked Hotch quietly.

"The traps had to come from somewhere. If it is someone from the area, they would likely get them here. Even if they didn't, the store may be able to point us in the right direction."

"Doesn't seem smart to get their gear in their hunting grounds."

"Who would suspect them? Hunting is accepted on the outskirts of town to get rid of pests, I don't think many people would find it odd to have a trap or two in the basement in case they need it."

"Doesn't make for a very smart unsub."

Hotch turned a look at Reid, "I don't think we are dealing with a genius here."

"No? Should be easy to catch him then. Although, I hear all the time that there is more to being smart than being a genius. Take Morgan for example, he may not have my IQ-"

"Get in the car, Reid."

The ride to Marty's store was silent, each of the men lost in their own thoughts. The supervisor's thoughts drifted from the case, to the paperwork he'll have to complete afterwards, to his son. Reid's thoughts were on the case, he was rapidly thinking through as many related cases as he could and regretting not being able to look at the city's maps before they left the station. Anderson was concentrating on driving, but some of his thoughts were on what his wife was making for dinner, he was hoping for a nice, hearty stew.

The store itself was set off the road a short ways. The parking lot was clear of litter and all the carts were stored in a cart corral. The building was undergoing a paint job, although the painters were either on a break or had packed up for the day, their equipment packed up and off to the side.

The trio walked through the automatic doors.

"Marty! Marty, where are you?" Anderson called out once the doors had closed behind them.

"Harry? That you?" An elderly man with a faintly Asian cast came out of a backroom.

"Hiya Marty, you got a few minutes?"

"For you, always," Marty answered with a curious look towards the two men accompanying the police detective.

"Marty, these are Special Agents Aaron Hotchner and Spencer Reid, from the FBI. Agents, this is Marty Lee. Marty, these guys are investigating the Garrett boy's murder."

"Ah, yes, that. Sad thing."

"You don't seem too broken up about it," Hotch observed.

"Don't get me wrong, the mayor is a good man. He's done a lot for the area. But his son? The limelight of growing up the mayor's son did him no favors."

"How so?" Reid asked.

"Well," Marty scratched the back of his head. "Thought he deserved a lot more than he got."

"Ah," Hotch made a vague sound of interest, which Marty took as encouragement.

"That boy, use to come in here claiming to be allowed to hunt although I knew for damn sure he didn't have a license. Always claimed he didn't need one since he was the mayor's son. I told him more than once that I didn't care if he was the president's son! The law is the law and I ain't selling no hunting gear to anyone without a valid hunting license!"

Reid latched onto his statement. "So you only sell gear to licensed hunters? What about animal traps?"

"Traps? Depends on the type and what it's for. Live trapping cages I'll sell to most anyone, especially after I show them how it works. Spring coil traps? Those have to be registered and marked, I try to talk people out of buying them."

"So you're more likely to remember who has purchased them?"

"More likely to remember?" Marty repeated. "Not as such, but I keep records, those types of traps are to be checked daily, which is usually too much work for anyone after pests. Most serious hunters? They might use them, but I've noticed they prefer to actually go out into the woods with a gun, rather than trap their prey. Anyway, it's easier to keep a list of who has what and their serial numbers, just in case someone forgets to check the traps and they're found out."

"Has that happened?"

Marty chewed his lower lip thoughtfully and glanced at Anderson. "Not that I can recall."

"What about selling the traps? Have you sold any recently?"

"No," Marty shook his head. "I only keep a few in stock, haven't had to restock lately."

"Could you show us the traps?" Hotch asked.

"Certainly, follow me." Marty led the way to the back of the store. "Here we are." He pulled out a box that contained the trap and opened it.

The agents peered at the contraption. "If it was used on a human, I could see how they could get their hands caught... but how on earth did our vics get their feet trapped in one?"

"Wait," Mart interrupted, "you think someone is using these on people? It'll hurt, yeah, but most people can pry them open fairly easily."

Reid looked up at the shop owner, "These are strong enough to break human bones?"

Marty blew out a breath, "Maybe a child's, not an adult's. These are intended for fairly small animals, don't need as much pressure to break their bones."

"Then either the coroner is wrong on what broke the bones of our vics, or someone has a much larger version of this somewhere in this state."

"It would be illegal, only these small ones are permitted and I sure as hell wouldn't sell an illegal one to anyone. Those are too dangerous."

"Would any other stores in the area be willing to go under the table?" Hotch asked.

Drumming his fingers on the box in thought, Marty slowly answered. "No, I don't think so. Most of the other stores in the area are on the up and up. We had a few a couple years ago that were a big more shady, but the state cracked down on them. If anyone does have those traps, they got them a while back."

With a sigh Hotch continued his questioning, "So if they are using a larger trap, you wouldn't be able to track it?"

"I wouldn't, but the state might have something to work on. I doubt there are serial numbers for the things, but they may have something."

"We'll have to have Garcia look into it when we get back," Hotch commented to Reid. "Can you think of anyone who has purchased these traps recently who may be a problem?"

"Let me check my files," Marty quickly repacked the trap, then hurried to his office. He returned with a binder that he was flipping through. "Haven't sold one in a few months. George Fenner is a good man, Martha Atkins knows her business," he clicked his tongue thoughtfully. "Ah, sold one to Gary Mason. His father uses them out on their farm. Usually Edgar gets them, can't seem to remember why he sent his son, but I didn't think it was out of the ordinary. Nothing else until we go back to 2001."

"Thanks for you time Marty, we really appreciate it."

"Always like to help the law, keeps everything on the up and up. If you need anything else, Harry has my info, call whenever."

The men shook hands and the agents and officer took their leave.

Once back in the car, Anderson turned to face the other men. "What now?"

"Back to the station, we'll need to see what else the others have found, but I think we should have a profile for you tonight or early tomorrow." answered Hotch.

"That's good to hear. Should we stop to get food on the way back?"

"I'm sure the others would appreciate it, and Doctor Reid probably needs coffee," Hotch threw a teasing look towards the back seat.

Reid huffed in response and looked out the window.

****************

Another story says that Were Foxes were created by early magic users. Witches and wizards who wanted a small, trainable, and dependable familiar that could hide among humans. Familiars had the task of helping magic users find their potion ingredients, locate hidden traps, signal if strangers were coming, that sort of thing. In the early days, most magic users used housecats. Unlike dogs, cats were more independent, much more likely to understand directions and capable of adapting on the fly if things went bad.

The story goes that witches had begun to find the cats more of a hindrance than a help. Especially with their penchant towards all black ones. Anyone with a black cat was presumed to be into witchcraft. At best, they were shunned, at worst? Well, witch trials were a thing, sometimes the guilty were executed. Even with cats that weren't black, magic users began noticing problems. 

The independence that had originally drawn them to cats started to backfire. Sometimes the familiars wouldn't be as bonded to their witch or wizard as they should have been. When that happened, a cat may decide that keeping watch for witch hunters was not as exciting as chasing a butterfly or napping in a sunny spot.

A coven came up with the idea of a were familiar. Half human, half animal, able to hide with ease in towns and in deep forests. Why a fox? No idea. Just like it's unknown if other covens used other animals. For all we know, Werewolves could be real. it’s possible that the fox shape was just an unexpected result to the spell used.

The process for the original creation of Weres is lost to time. All that is known is that people were needed to undergo the spell. If the coven had used real foxes to change into a Were Fox, the human they could change into would be... slow. Not as independent or intelligent as a human turned into an animal.

The subjects? The best guess is that less powerful witches and wizards volunteered to be test subjects. The cynical will claim that certain people were encouraged to volunteer. Both magic users and common folk. of the common folk, it was probably the dredges of society who wouldn't be missed. However the subjects were chosen, the coven was successful in creating a human who could turn into a fox at will.

At first, the Were Foxes worked just as predicted. They were loyal to their bonded witch or wizard, aided them in their magical quests, help kept them out of harms way. The coven forgot to plan for the inevitable death of the magic user. What would happen to the familiar then?

The bond was not so strong as to cause its death when their magic user died. Neither was it so weak that a familiar could be passed from one magic user to another. It is likely that a number of familiars died while the coven attempted to force bonds into being. Bonds, as you know, especially magical ones, cannot be forced.

Once the magic user died, the familiars they would flee from their home. Putting time and distance between themselves and their bond. Then they would make a choice, stay hidden as a fox or be out as a human. 

No matter the choice, they would find a place to live, mixing with their chosen community, finding mates, having children. 

It was the children that would out them. In a time when anything different wasn’t just strange, but most likely evil or a sign of misfortune, having a child that could change shape was a surefire mark of death. 

The first time a fox kit turned into a human or vice versa? Those found were killed. Those not found would flee with their Were Fox parent. Over time, Were Foxes became better at predicting when their offspring would shift, they became better able to curb anything that would out them as different in their communities. 

If they lived in an area that had a magic user, life could be easier. It could also be harder. Some magic users weren’t very scrupulous about not taking a seemingly unprotected fox kit as a familiar. Those magic users were often found either badly injured or dead.

As more and more witch hunts occurred, magic users became more invested in saving themselves and less interested in companionship. The entire idea of Were Fox familiars faded from memory until all that was left were obscure fairy tales.

*****************

Rossi, Prentiss, and Detective Thomas headed towards Michel's, the French restaurant Winston Garrett II was found behind.

"The other dump sites are out of the way, why pick Michel's?" Prentiss asked as they walked to the alleyway behind the restaurant.

The detective shrugged, "If I knew that, we wouldn't have called you."

Rossi looked around the alleyway. "I think it's because the unsub knew the cameras were dummies."

"What?" Both the detective and Prentiss peered up at the cameras.

"Well, maybe not dummies, but they aren't plugged in, you can see the wires dangling right there," Rossi pointed out.

"Damn. No clues there."

"Not true, detective," Rossi countered. "We now know it's someone who would spend a lot of time back here. Either an employee or maybe someone who works with the trash company."

"Well," Thomas sighed, "That narrows our search from the whole city down to what, a couple hundred? I'm sure we want to look at past employees as well."

"We'll get Garcia on it when we get back to the station. Now, where exactly was he found?"

"This way," Thomas led the two agents a little further into the alley. "Behind this dumpster."

Ross and Emily quickly got to work, rechecking every nook and cranny. 

"According to the pictures, Garrett's hand was right there," Emily gestured to a small pot hole near the dumpster edge. "The charm was found inside the pot hole. Do you think it was in his hand? Or did the unsub deliberately place it?"

Clucking his tongue thoughtfully, Rossi answered slowly. "The reports said he was past rigor, it could have been in his hand when the body was originally dumped." He turned to Thomas, "Did anyone take prints before it went missing?"

"Nothing specific," was the answer, "Enough to know it's not a fingerprint, looked like a palm print. Not sure whose palm. Whoever it was had a good grip on the charm though."

"Do we know anything about Garrett's plans before he went missing?"

"Not really, the boy really kept to himself unless he was bothering folks for hand outs."

"Hand outs?" Rossi questioned. "I thought he was well to do."

"Maybe hand outs isn't the right word. He was always out and about saying that as the mayor's son, he didn't have to pay full price for that or wait to have a nice seat, that sort of thing."

"I know the type," Emily muttered.

"Rubbed a lot of people the wrong way."

"So, we don't have a dearth of suspects," Rossi said with amusement.

"It'll be hard to find someone who didn't think about killing the kid at least once."

"Is it possible that Garrett's murder isn't connected to the other two?" Emily asked.

"No, we kept the charms out of the papers just in case."

"So, either it's connected or it's the same unsub but with a different motive."

"Why a different motive?" Thomas asked.

"Compared to the other vics, Garrett is from a completely different social circle, and he was dumped in a nice area of town, somewhere he would be found quickly. Barnes and James were left in areas where they could have gone unnoticed for days."

"So," Emily started slowly, "It could be a sign of remorse on behalf of the killer. A 'I didn't mean to kill him, but I had to, here he is' type thing"

"Possibly," Rossi shrugged and glanced around the alley once more. "We won't find much else out here, let's go in and talk to the owner." He turned to the detective, "Does he know we're coming?"

Thomas nodded, "She does. Owner's name is Patsy Mills, nice lady."

The trip made their way out the alley and around to the front of the restaurant. The detective tapped on the glass door sharply, and after several minutes the owner answered and let them all in.

Inside the doors, the four took stock of each other. 

"Ms. Mills," Rossi started. "I'm Agent David Rossi, this is Agent Emily Prentiss with the FBI, we're investigating the death of Winston Garrett II."

"Well," Ms. Mills replied with a grin, "I'm sure with such a handsome man on the case, it'll be settled very quickly."

Emily and Detective Thomas shared an eye roll while Rossi gave a delighted grin.

"If only my attractiveness could solve cases! We would be finished much sooner and I would have more time to spend with regal business women." He held out an arm to their hostess, "Why don't we go have a seat and discuss what you know?"

Prentiss sighed and glanced at the detective.

"Does this happen often?" he asked quietly.

"More often than you'd think. Rossi's almost always a hit with the ladies."

Thomas sucked in air through his teeth, "Can't complain if it gets results, right?"

"No," Emily stated flatly. "I can still complain. I just can't complain around him. He'll brag more and then we're all hear about his relationships when the BAU was still new. At least until Hotch shuts him up."

"Someone can shut him up?" was asked in disbelief. Right after the words left his mouth, Thomas looked alarmed and glanced quickly at Rossi, who was still occupied with Ms. Mills.

Emily chuckled, "Relax. It's nothing none of us haven't thought. It gets results, sometimes we need that more than we need to prove we're the best. Let's join them before they notice we aren't there."

A look revealed Rossi and Ms. Mills ensconced in a dark booth with glasses of water in front of them.

"You really think they'll notice?"

"Ms. Mills might not, but Rossi will."

The two quickly slid into the booth beside the older couple.

"Did we miss anything?" the detective asked with a smile.

"Patsy was telling me how she came about owning Michel's, she won it in a poker game."

Ms. Mills smiled sheepishly. "It was a regular poker game, I made a joke about being better at strip poker, next thing I know, I own a restaurant."

"That's... one way to start a business," commented Emily.

"Now, Patsy, what can you tell us about Winston Garrett?"

"The younger, I presume? An upstart. Wanted to get through life on Daddy's dime. Might work in a bigger city, but West Norton is not that big. People 'round here expect you to work for what you get."

"Did he eat here often?" Emily asked, pulling out a small notebook.

"No," came the answer after a moment. "Occasionally with his parents, once or twice on a date. He had a tendency to treat my staff poorly and was a horrible tipper. No one wanted to serve him if he came in without his folks."

"Was he here the night of November second?"

"The second? He was found the ninth!"

"Yes, but coroner reports state he died on the seventh and other reports indicate he had gone missing sometime the night of the second."

"Ah," Ms. Mills said, taking a sip of her water.

"Ah?" Emily prodded.

"You will probably learn more about his ways from his father, but Winston had a habit of going off on his own randomly. He'd be gone upwards of a week, then come home with stories of casinos and parties. No idea if any of it was true. Now, as to the night of the second." Ms. Mills looked up and waved her arm, one of her employees appeared, "Georgie, would you please fetch the guest log from the office for me? Make sure you get the one that includes the reservations for the second."

"Yes ma'am." Georgie scurried off, and Ms. Mills watched him go.

"Enjoying the view, Patsy?" Rossi asked with a smirk.

She laughed, poking the tip of her tongue between her teeth. "What can I say? It is a lovely view."

Georgie returned with the book, then left again, just as quiet.

"Alright, let's see." Ms. Mills opened the book and flipped through a few pages. "He was not here the second, he was here the first though."

"Was he with anyone?"

The restaurateur hummed, "We don't normally write the names of both parties, just whoever booked the reservation. However, I do remember it being Karen Chambers, she use to be a waitress here, which is how I know her."

"Any other reason you remember that?"

Patsy looked up, "You're quick. I like that. Karen is... not anywhere in Winston's league. That's not to say she's a bad person, just probably not what Mayor Garrett would want for his only child."

"Poor?" Emily asked.

"Not poor, but certainly not rich. Karen's family has had financial struggles, it's one of the reasons I hired her. Trying to help the community."

"Was she a good employee?"

"I've had better, I've had worse. She was only here a few months, then left for a job at a jewelry store."

Emily and Rossi shared a look, "That wouldn't happen to be Charming Silver, would it?"

"Maybe? I'm not sure. I don't make a habit of keeping track of where my ex-employees are."

Emily made a note, "Do you remember anything about their evening?"

"Nothing that sticks out, I couldn't tell you what they ordered, but they didn't have a fight, I vaguely remember them having a nice conversation."

"What about their waiter?"

"That would have been... Frankie. She should be in soon."

"Frankie have a last name?"

"Francesca Gonzales. She may be here already, Georgie!" Patsy called out, "Georgie! Is Frankie here?"

Instead of a returning yell that the law enforcement group was expecting, Georgie walked back to the table. "Yes ma'am, she's in the back filling out her new time card. Do you want to see her?"

"I do, send her in, please"

Not long after, a tall, thin Latina walked into the dining room.

"You wanted to see me Ms. Mills?"

"Not me, them," Patsy gestured towards the agents. "Have a seat and answer they're questions, if you don't mind, David, I'm going to go powder my nose."

"Go right ahead," Rossi smiled. He turned to the waitress, "Ms. Gonzales, we're investigating Winston Garrett II's murder. From what we've been able to gather, he was last seen on a date with Karen Chambers here on the second. You were their waitress, what can you tell us about their evening?"

Frankie blinked rapidly, then sat in Patsy's vacant seat. "Nothing unusual sticks out."

"Nothing unusual to you," Emily pointed out, "Whatever happened may have bearing on our case."

"Oh," Frankie answered quietly. "Well then." She took a breath. "Winston always asked for a table in my section if I was working. If he was with friends or his parents he's usually slip away at least once to ask me on a date. If he's on a date, I'm ignored, but I get a decent tip."

"You ever take him up on the offer?"

"No," she shook her head, "I'm not stupid, he wasn't after a relationship, just a night of fun. I have plans and being strung along by a rich white boy isn't part of that."

Rossi nodded in understanding. "What about his date with Ms. Chambers? Tell us about that."

"He was late for his reservation. Usually was, always kicked up a fuss if we gave his table away. I think Ms. Mills has just started leaving the table empty all night if he calls in, she may lose out on some money, but saves on trouble." she tapped her fingers on the table in thought. "They ordered the cheapest things on the menu. He usually does. Ordered his specialty wine, which is the cheapest we have."

"He called it his specialty wine?"

"Yes, he never wanted his dates to know it was the cheap stuff. They talked quietly, nothing exciting... oh! They were talking about their favorite Babcia Lidka stories! I remember now, they asked me about mine."

"Who's Babcia Lidka?" Emily asked.

It was Detective Thomas who answered, "She's a little old lady who tells stories at the library. Has been for almost thirty years. Just about everyone who grew up in West Norton has heard her stories. It's usually a good ice breaker for first dates."

Frankie nodded, "What was weird is that the whole two hours they were here, every time I went by, they were still talking about it. Usually it's a quick topic and then they move onto something else. So that was weird."

"Mm, thank you, anything else that sticks out?"

"No, once they paid and left I stopped paying attention to them."

"Thank you Ms. Gonzales, I hope you have a pleasant evening," Rossi said, getting up from the table.

"You're welcome, I hope you catch whoever did this." Frankie got up and headed towards the back of the restaurant, passing the owner on the way.

"All done, Davey?" Patsy asked.

"Yes, we are. Thank you for letting us take up your time."

"Oh, it's not trouble at all. In fact, feel free to stop by one your case is wrapped up," Patsy offered, looking Rossi up and down.

"I'll see what I can do," he replied with a wink, "Until then, please excuse us."

The older agent led the way out of the restaurant. On the sidewalk, he turned back to the others. "We need to find out more about Karen Chambers, let's head back to the station and wait for the others."

"Sounds like a plan," Emily agreed.

*******************

Perhaps the easiest story about Werecreature creation to understand is the one that still causes controversy in the human world. Evolution.

There is evidence that mother nature tried out some rather bizarre creations before settling on what exists today. How else would you explain the saber tooth deer or naked mole rats?

There has been some evidence that different species of humans existed at the same time. Without written records, modern scientists rely on carbon dating and other forms of testing. Such things can help narrow down time frames, but the exact dates or the exact ways that people in the past lived are still unknown.

The idea that nature dabbled in shape changing is not that obscure. Cobras can go from the typical snake shape, to having a hood when threatened. Cats puff up their fur to look larger when intimidated. 

Frogs change shape entirely as the mature, going from the fishlike tadpole to the fully adult frog form. The mimic octopus can impersonate other sea animals, a feat that often saves its life.

Some species of chameleons can change their colors. 

What's to say that an animal cannot completely change their shape?

The fact that Werecreatures are animals who can turn into humans, or vice versa, means that there will never be any hard scientific evidence about their existence. When they die, they revert to their human form, leaving no trace of their animal self behind. There is nothing unique about their blood or skin cells, nothing that has, so far, been found in their DNA. 

The only way to proof that they exist is to catch one. Which has obviously proven to be difficult, otherwise there would be zoos already filled with them.

No, here, evolution was smart. It gave Weres the ability to change and the intelligence to know that not everyone would be open and kind about this ability.

Thus, Weres evolved alongside humans. 

Most cultures have folk stories about an animal being able to take on human form. That's because Weres have had contact with humans, they're just very careful about revealing their secrets.

Although time and human imagination have distorted some of the stories. Who ever heard of the moon controlling when a Were had to shift? Absolute poppycock.

******************

Back at the station, the FBI agents waited for their police escorts to leave them alone so they could compare notes in relative ease.

They had just settled down when the door to their conference room slammed open.

"What have you found? Who did it?" An older, balding man demanded.

"I'm sorry, you are?" Hotch asked, standing up, the others taking places near him, hands on or near their weapons.

The man mentally caught himself, and the agents watched as he drew himself up to his not so considerable height. "I'm Mayor Winston Garrett. I demand to know the progress of my son's.. " he stuttered," my son's murder investigation."

As soon as the team heard the man's name, Rossi, Morgan, and Emily shifted their positions to block the images and date of the crime scenes from his sight.

"Mr. Mayor," Hotch said gently, "we're very sorry for your loss, but you can't be here right now."

"Can't be here? He's my son! I deserve to be here! I demand to be here." He nodded his head sharply, emphasizing his point.

"Mr. Mayor," JJ started, but was interrupted when Detective Thomas walked in.

"Winston! There you are, we were looking for you. Come on, Chief wants to see you. He heard from Betty who said you haven't stopped moving since you got the news. let's go." The detective led the mayor away, throwing a wink over his shoulder at the agents.

Hotch closed his eyes and heaved a sigh. He quickly moved to the door, closing it and locking it. "Let's see if we can do this without interruptions. Who wants to go first?"

It didn't take long for the three groups to report on their findings. Morgan and JJ went last. When they were done, Rossi had let out a rough guffaw.

"Let me get this straight. Some old broad thinks all the people murdered are foxpeople? People who can turn into foxes. That don't exist."

JJ and Morgan shared a glance, JJ shrugged and turned back to Rossi, "She's pretty adamant that they exist. Gave us some names of people who might be a little to into her stories."

"What names?" Garcia asked, flexing her hands above her keyboard.

"Karen Chambers, Gary Mason, and Melanie Watkins," Morgan read off his notes.

"Gary Mason came up in our interviews." Reid added.

"And Karen Chambers in ours," Rossi chimed in.

"Looking 'em up." Garcia announced. "Alright, nothing major for any of them. Mason does have appropriate licenses for hunting, Chambers... oh, use to work at Charming Silver and is now attending the nearby college."

"What about Mason and Watkins? Are they going to school?"

"No," Garcia shook her head, "Looks like Mason is working fulltime at his farm and Watkins is working over at the grocery store. Oh, Watkins use to work part time here at the station. In the evidence room."

"Dammit." Rossi said. "So there's a good chance that she's responsible for our missing charms."

"Looks like." Hotch nodded and rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. "What happened to make her leave?"

"She filed a two week notice. Didn't bother giving a reason," Garcia answered after a few minutes. "She left before Garrett's murder though, no way for her to get the last charm from the evidence room."

"No, but she might have a friend or two who are willing to help her. Any luck finding the Geuns?" asked Hotch.

"Yes sir, they opened a new store over in Potsdam. It's a two hour drive south from here."

"Alright, it looks like these three are either involved or know who are. Do you have addresses to pass on to Reid?"

"Sure do and already have."

"Were hours posted for the Geuns's new store? It might still be early enough to call."

"Yes and yes, want me to do it bossman?"

"That's ok, have JJ call." Hotch turned to Reid, "How's the map?"

Reid took up a pointer as everyone except JJ turned to him. "The Mason farm is here, the store that Watkins works at here, here's the college, and here are their homes." He pointed out each. "The bodies were all dumped in areas that could have been en route to any one of their daily treks. With the added benefit of being outside their backyards. Both Chambers and Watkins live in apartments, so wherever the actual murders are taking place has to be on or near the Mason farm. Garcia, do we have the satellite images of the farm?"

"Sure do." Garcia turned her laptop around so the others could see. "The house, barn, and work shop are all clearly visible, but there is a good chunk that's covered in trees."

"A farm with trees? Are they a tree farm?" Emily asked.

"No," Morgan replied, flipping through a file. "A regular crop farm, but... ah, here it is. They made some agreement with the college a few years back to set up part of the farm as a conservation area. It's open to ecology students and researchers."

"Right," Garcia agreed, "I saw that in some of the farm paperwork. If they are killing people, it won't be there. The college takes students there at least once a month, they'd notice something."

"Garcia, what did you find on the mutilated animals?"

"Oh, right," Garcia looked down for a second before turning her laptop back to her and switching the screen. "There's been a rise of finding animals that were obviously stuck in a spring coil trap, but no evidence of the trap itself. Some of the animals were also skinned. Um." She paused for a minute to further check her notes. "Of the 76 animals found, twenty two were foxes, eighteen were squirrels, the rest are a mish mash. The only ones skinned were foxes."

"Well," Emily said with a smirk towards Rossi, "Maybe fox people do exist."

"No, they don't. Even if they did, how did they get a trap big enough to catch a human? Having that trap would be enough to get them thrown in jail for a while."

Reid tapped his pointer on the map thoughtfully. "Maybe they're experimenting and building their own. A farm would have some of the equipment necessary. All they really have to do is build a bigger version. We know that Gary bought a traditionally sized one. It wouldn't take much to get the measurements necessary to build a larger one."

JJ nodded, "They could have set it up along the edges of the conservation area. We need Detective Thomas, let me go get him."

"Wait, JJ," Hotch said, "What did the Geuns' have to say?"

"Oh," she stepped away from the door and looked at her notes briefly. "Karen Chambers did work for them and she did commission the fox charms. The company makes special orders, except for things like wedding rings, in groups of six. Four of the charms were sold, the other two are still in stock in their current store."

"Who bought the charms?"

"Karen bought three, and Babcia Lidka bought one."

Rossi snorted. "As much as her name keeps popping up, I'm almost willing to say she's involved."

JJ shook her head. "Gloria said Babcia did buy one, then came by a few days later to show them a picture of her granddaughter in New Orleans, it had been a birthday present."

"Alright, so the old lady didn't do it. We still have three youngsters who might be."

Hotch nodded, "JJ, please see if you can find Detective Thomas quickly."

She nodded and slipped out of the room and returned almost immediately.

"That was fast," Morgan said, looking up in surprise.

"He was outside the door."

"Yeah, sorry about that," the detective said abashedly. "We tried to keep the mayor out of the station, but he buffaloed a couple rookies. The chief is going to take him home to his wife, unless you need to ask him any questions?"

The team shared a look. "No," Hotch shook his head. "I don't think he'll have any answers for us. We have a pretty good idea of who, we just need some help with the where. How well do you know that Mason farm?"

"Not as good as some. Let me get Officer Banks, she use to work on the farm when she was younger." He left again and was gone for several minutes before returning with a petite red head. "Everyone, this is Officer Monica Banks, Monica these are the FBI agents, they want to ask you some questions about the Mason farm."

"The farm? You don't think the Mason's had anything to do with these murders, do you?" she asked.

JJ smiled gently, "Right now we're looking into where the murders may have taken place."

"Yes," Reid jumped in, "The area would have to be secluded, yet easy to get too. Our initial research indicates that somewhere on the farm property might be used. With, or without the owners knowing."

Banks nodded thoughtfully, her eyes on the city map. "There's an old shack about two miles from the farm house. It wasn't used for much when I worked there. Mr. Mason said it was leftover from when some in-laws lived on the property way back when. The missus at the time wanted her folks close, but that was as close as they could get and keep the peace."

Several of the agents smiled quickly at the joke.

"Who knows about the shack, Officer?" Hotch asked.

"The workers, some of the older ones used it to smoke their pot or take a nap when we were supposed to be working. Gary and his friends. Can't remember the number of times we found them back there with a couple bottles of booze."

"Is it easy to see?" Reid asked from his position next to the map, he had already traced out the distance from the house. 

"No, you really didn't know it was there until you were right on top of it. But there is this old giant pine tree that I used to remind myself where it was."

"Have you been there recently?"

Banks shook her head, "Not since I left for the academy. Some of the other workers threw me a farewell party there. With Mr. Mason's permission."

"Thank you, Office Banks," Hotch said, dismissing her from the room. He turned towards Detective Thomas, "Do you think you can get Mr. Mason here without alerting Gary?'

"Shouldn't be a problem. Edgar usually makes a trip to the local diner at the same time every day. Always says it's to give his wife a break making meals. Let me send Andy to go fetch him."

"Thank you detective."

It took about twenty minutes for Detective Morris to return with Edgar Mason. Introductions were quick and Hotch and Emily led him into a vacant interrogation room.

"Now, what's all this about?" Edgar asked. "You can't be thinking my boy's involved."

"Why's that, Mr. Mason?" Emily asked curiously.

"I love my boy, but he's not the brightest. Works well on the farm, takes orders well, not so good at issuing them."

Hotch and Emily shared a look. "Has he been hanging out with anyone different lately?"

"Different? Well now." Edgar stared at his hands for a minute. "He's been seeing that Melanie Watkins girl, always surprised me."

"Surprised you?" Emily prodded.

"She's a pretty girl, Gary has a lot of fine qualities, but picking up a pretty girl like that? Wasn't quite what I expected."

"We do think Gary may have some involvement in the murders," Hotch said, holding up a hand to stop Edgar's rebuttal. "We're also thinking that he's really only a part of it because of your land."

"My land?"

Emily leaned forward. "Skinning people takes practice and space, the murderers will need some place out of sight to do these things. We think they're using that old shack on your property."

Edgar sat back, "The in-law shack? I haven't thought of that place in years. Some of the workers I hired use to smoke and drink back there, know Gary did when he was younger as well. Asked them to stop because the place isn't as sound as it use to be, not worth it to fix it up, not worth it to knock it down, you know?"

Hotch nodded. "We would like to set up surveillance around the shack and your farm to try and catch the unsubs, would you be willing to let us?"

"What kind of surveillance?"

"Nothing invasive, a few cameras on trees that we'll watch here, maybe a couple undercover cops working your fields, that sort of thing. It wouldn't be for very long."

"How do you figure?"

"They recently skinned a body, they'll need to check on the skin and will have to do so soon."

Edgar heaved a sigh. "I'd hate to think my boy is mixed up in this, but that's not reason enough to keep you from finding who is. If Gary is involved, will my cooperation help him?"

"I really couldn't say Mr. Mason," Hotch answered, "That'll be up to the DA, but we'll certainly mention it to them."

"Set up your surveillance," Edgar said. "And let's all pray to God that my boy has nothing to do with this. What will I tell my wife?"

"For the surveillance, tell her it's the college, wanting to add to their studies of the conservation area," Emily suggested, "If your son is involved... you'll just have to tell her the truth."

Edgar shook his head sadly, "Never could lie to that woman."

"Detective Thomas has some forms we need you to sign, once you're done you can head on home, but don't say anything to your son. Can we trust you on this?"

Meeting Hotch's eyes, Edgar stared at him hard for several long seconds. "You can. Whoever is doing this needs to be caught, and if that means my own son." He stopped for a second. "Well, then that means my own son as well."

"Thank you, Mr. Mason," Hotch murmured as he led Emily back to the conference room.

"We have permission to put surveillance on the farm. Any suggestions? Concerns?"

Rossi tapped a file in front of where he was sitting, "They're confident and believe that either there is nothing tying them to the crimes or that we're too stupid to connect them. They won't be skulking around the farm after dark, they'll wait and go during the day."

Morgan nodded in agreement. "They won't take time off either, it'll be when they're all free."

"So we need Chambers' and Watkins' schedules. On it!" Garcia chimed in.

"Good, that gives us a few days to set everything up and coordinate with the locals. Anyone volunteer to work on the farm?"

Just about everyone found somewhere to look other than at their Unit Chief.

"Oh, for Pete's sake. I'll do it." JJ said.

"Thank you JJ. Garcia, get with the locals to set up the cameras, Rossi, you and Morgan work out a viewing schedule. Reid, you and Emily are on a dinner run."

Everyone quickly became immersed in their projects, leaving Hotch to begin filling out FBI paperwork.

*******************

It was two days before anyone made a move towards the old shack on the Mason farm. In those two days, the BAU team continued their interviews and collective quite a bit of circumstantial evidence that pointed at the trio as the unsubs. 

All that was needed was the physical evidence.

The call came from JJ down on the farm. She called to say that after breakfast, that Edna Mason made for all the farm hands, Gary was acting twitchy and kept looking down the road.

Shortly after, the officers posted to watch Karen Chambers and Melanie Watkins' apartments called to report that they met up and were heading towards the farm.

The remaining members of the BAU and the detectives quickly made their way to the farm. The pulled up to the house after being sure that all three suspects had indeed headed towards the woods near the house. 

"What's the plan?" Morgan asked as they were all strapping on their vests.

Rossi answered before Hotch could, "Go in, catch the bad guys, be on the plane and home by dinner."

"Dave," Hotch warned. "The plan is to go in, get the suspects alive and no one gets hurt. Return them to the station, interrogate, eat some dinner, fill out paperwork, get a good nights sleep, then go home."

"No muss, no fuss," Detective Thomas threw in.

"Exactly," Hotch replied with a slight twitch to his lips.

The law enforcement officers followed Edgar Mason's directions towards the shack. On the way, they passed the giant pine tree that Officer Banks told them about and knew they were on the right track.

The raid itself went textbook smooth, the suspects had no idea the police were there until the door was broken down. 

The door to the shack had been reinforced, but was still weak enough to Morgan's kick knocked it off it's hinges with a loud bang.

They found the trio inside, Melanie was gently petting one of the skins hanging from a wall. Gary and Karen were standing by a table, looking at a book.

"FBI!" Morgan shouted as he was joined by the others. "Put your hands up!"

The three gaped in surprise at the armed law enforcement that barged into their sanctuary. Gary was the first to slowly put his hands in the air.

"Hands up!" Rossi shouted at Melanie and Karen.

Once their hands were up, they were told to kneel on the ground. Once they had been searched for weapons. They were cuffed and escorted to waiting cars. Waiting for them at the station were three separate interrogation rooms and a few hours of wait while the FBI and crime scene investigators looked over the scene.

The scene itself was all the evidence they needed to convict the three of the murders.

Along the walls were stretched and dried fox furs. Balanced carefully on specially made frames were the skins of their three victims. The group was silent as they carefully made their way closer, watching each step to be sure not to disturb any evidence.

The skins told the entire story. There, they could see that carefully stitched onto the skins were the missing fox charms. 

A detail that had been kept from the public. Details that the FBI agents had only glossed over in their own discussions. Seeing them stretched out as they were was poignantly somber. 

"Why do people do this?" JJ asked softly.

"For clothing mostly," Reid answered absentmindedly as he stared with fascination at the display of skins. "Hides or skins have been status symb-"

JJ cut him off, "I meant the murdering part Spence, not really the skinning animals part."

"Oh, right. Sorry." Reid fiddled with his glasses in embarrassment.

"Have we seen enough yet?" Hotch asked.

"Yeah," Morgan said as he led the way out of the shack.

Hotch remained for a few minutes, giving further instructions for pictures to the CSI group, then taking a long look around before joining this team outside.

"Let's head back to the station."

*******************

The agents stood outside the interrogation rooms. Each had taken a few minutes to observe the suspects behind the mirrors. They now stood in the conference room with Detective Thomas and Chief Davis had joined them.

"Now what?" The chief asked gruffly.

"Now, we break them." Hotch turned towards his team. "Emily, I want you and Reid to work on Gary. He'll probably turn on the others. Rossi, you and Morgan get Karen. We'll wait on Melanie until we get through those two. Have any of them lawyered up?

"No," Thomas answered. "Melanie seems pretty confident that she'll be going home in a couple hours. Gary's folks are here though, followed us back. Karen seems to be as unconcerned as Melanie."

"I noticed that too," said Rossi, "I think it's a cover, her eyes are darting around the room like mad."

"Let's get started." Hotch led them towards the interrogation rooms.

They started with Gary, Emily and Reid settled at the table across from him.

"Gary," started Emily, "What were you doing in that shed with those skins?"

"Making sure they dried out properly. You can't store them if you dry them wrong."

"Yes, that's a good point. But three of those skins were human."

"No they weren't," Gary shook his head.

"They weren't? They looked human to me." 

"No ma'am. They're Were Foxes and Melanie says they aren't human so it's ok to kill 'em and skin 'em."

"Why dump the bodies then?"

He shrugged. "Don't need the bodies, only the skins."

"Tell us about the trap you used Gary, you had to have made your own, didn't you?" Reid asked, leaning forward.

"No sir, used the trap I got from Marty's."

"Gary, that trap isn't big enough to catch a human limb, what trap did you use?"

"The trap I got from Marty, honest."

The two agents shared a look, silently agreeing to move to a new topic.

"What made you decide to go looking for Were Foxes?" Emily asked.

"Oh, well Babcia tells the best stories. They're awesome. Ran into Melanie a bit back at the library and we started talking about it. She said they were real and if we caught one and skinned it, we'd have skin that could change from human to fox!"

"Did Melanie come up with the plans?"

"Mostly, Karen helped some. I just provided the shack and the traps and the gory stuff neither of them wanted to do."

"The gory stuff," Emily said slowly. "You mean actually skinning them?"

"Yep."

"Thanks Gary, we're going to leave you with a couple police officers who are going to be reading you your rights."

"Wait," Gary said twisting in his seat, "I didn't do anything wrong."

"Gary," Emily said patiently. "Even if you didn't kill those people, you skinned them. That's desecrating a body and it's illegal."

They left Gary sitting bewildered in the room.

"If they all talk like that," Rossi started as he leaned against a wall, "they'll all get good use out of the insanity plea."

"Yes, but they won't be able to hurt anyone anymore. They'll be watched closely." JJ said trying to be optimistic.

"Let's see what Karen says," Rossi pushed off the wall, he and Morgan headed to the next room.

"Ms. Chambers," Rossi greeted. "I'm Agent David Rossi, this is Derek Morgan. We have some questions about your activities lately."

"I haven't done anything wrong," she insisted.

"I didn't say you did, just that we wanted to ask some question."

"They weren't human."

"Who weren't human?"

"That female and the two males. Just Were Foxes. They didn't deserve to live."

Morgan cocked his head. "They don't deserve to live because they're not human? Or specifically because they're Were Foxes?"

"Were Foxes!" she spat. "Babcia tells the good stories, but what about the ones where foxes tricked people? Caused mischief? Better to get rid of them while we can."

"I'm sorry," Dave said, "I'm confused. You hunted them down to kill them because they're Were Foxes, but by all accounts, you loved those stories Babcia told."

"I did. Until I learned the truth." Karen set her jaw.

"The truth."

"Yes, about the lies Babcia told. But Melanie knew the truth, and she knew how to catch them."

"So you caught them," Morgan outlined. "Then what?"

"Then we killed them."

"How?"

"Found some old pesticide stuff in Gary's barn. Couple drops of that in their water and they'd be disoriented. They tried to run, but just ran straight into the trap. Gary did the actual skinning though."

"You're admitting to killing them."

"They weren't human. It's only a crime to kill them if they're endangered or protected or we didn't have licenses. Gary has a hunting license. They're pests."

"Right. Um." Rossi looked at Morgan. "I think we're done here."

The two men left the room and rejoined the other agents in the hallway.

"Seems that Melanie is the ring leader," murmured Hotch.

"And she has these two buffaloed. How much you want to bet we won't find her fingerprints on anything in that shed? She'll send those two down for all her crimes."

"We'll just have to get her to admit it." Hotch tapped his fingers on his arm thoughtfully. "Morgan, I want you and Emily to talk to her."

They both looked surprised, "You don't want to?" Morgan asked.

"Go ahead, you two can handle it."

"All right," They entered the room where a bored looking Melanie Watkins sat.

"Well, Ms. Watkin," Derek started, "Gary and Karen have been telling us some fascinating stories about Were Foxes, do you have anything to add?"

The young woman rolled her eyes. "Were Foxes are just stories that Babcia Lidka makes up for the kids at the library. Stories. They aren't real."

"Your friends seem pretty convinced that they are."

"They're sweet, but not the smartest people on the planet."

"Melanie, why did you kill three people?"

"I didn't kill anyone."

"No? We found you with three human skins."

"That doesn't mean I killed anyone, sure having their skins might be illegal, but there is no proof I did anything worse than that."

"True. Tell us, why did Karen and Gary decide to go out and kill imaginary Were Foxes?"

"We were just talking about the stories and I made a joke about them being real and what we could do if we caught one. Kind of snowballed."

"I'd say," Morgan agreed, sliding a picture of Carla Barnes' skinned body across the table. Melanie looked away from it. 

"What?" Emily asked surprised, "Skinned animals don't bother you, but skinned people do? Must have been quite a surprise when your Were Foxes turned back into people."

"They weren't people!" Melanie bellowed, slamming her cuffed hands onto the tabletop. "They were animals! Good for nothing pests that needed to be destroyed. You should be thanking me for getting rid of them!"

"We have no proof that they aren't human. We have three skinned bodies and then we found three human skins in that shack on the Mason farm. The shack where we found you, Karen, and Gary."

"I didn't know the bodies would switch back to human after they died." Melanie grumbled. "No one told me that."

"But someone did tell you how to spot Wereanimals? How to catch them?"

Melanie glared at the two agents. "Yessss," she hissed. "I went to Atlanta for a weekend and met some guy at a bar. We started talking and I mentioned Babcia Lidka's stories. He went on a rant about how evil the Weres are! How they destroyed human settlements, stole food! We don't need those things around here."

"How do you spot them?"

"Benny gave me an old camera."

"An old camera," Morgan repeated.

"Yes, the kind before digital. Said the viewfinder would detect them, mark them with an orange-y aura. It worked! Found the first two easy enough."

"Where's the camera now?"

"It broke,” she sneered. "Ol' boy Winston didn't take too kindly to Karen not giving into his charms. Hit him with it. Knocked him out, but shattered the viewfinder making the whole thing worthless."

"So you're saying that you found the Were Foxes."

"Yep, found 'em. Karen and Gary would help catch them. Then we'd take them back to the shack."

"What happened at the shack?"

"We'd wait for them to wake up, offer them some water."

"Water, which according to Karen had pesticide in it."

Melanie smiled. "Seemed fitting, you use pesticide to get rid of pests. Kept them disoriented, which turned out to be a good thing, all three tried to escape. Good thing we had the traps set up. They'd run out of the shack, and right into one of the traps. Oh, they yowled and yowled, but we weren't there to free them. Just left them until the died from blood loss and shock. Once they stopped breathing, Gary would skin them."

"What were you planning to do with the skins?"

She shrugged carelessly. "Nothing yet, just keep them."

"And the charms? You stole those from police evidence."

"I didn't steal them," she insisted. "They were mine to begin with. Karen gave them to me and I wanted them back."

"Why are they on the skins?"

"So everyone would know they aren't human, they're Weres and they should be properly marked."

"How did you get the last charm, Melanie?" Emily asked.

"Before I left, I told the newbie Kevin that my charm might show up and if it did could he give it back to me. Sure enough, he did."

"How did you get them anywhere near the shack?" Morgan asked, moving on to their last topic.

"They're animals. You just have to have the right bait."

"What was the right bait?"

"The female was after drugs. The black male wanted to make things right with his family. Ol' Winston just wanted sex."

"Well, Ms. Watkins, thank you for your time." Morgan and Emily collected their paperwork. "A police officer will be in to read you your rights."

They rejoined the others in the conference room.

"All three confessed, but we still don't have the traps they used," Reid said, disappointed.

"It's possible they used each trap only once or twice, then dismantled them. They could be anywhere on that farm," JJ added.

"We'll tell Mr. Mason to keep an eye out, might have the police go through the woods and fields with metal detectors," Hotch offered as a solution. "We got confessions for the crimes we were brought in for. Not much else we can do. The locals will look into Kevin's conduct on giving away evidence. Things will probably change there"

"They could have solved this on their own, it wasn't difficult," Rossi grumbled.

"Yes, we know, but the mayor is related to the assistant governor, that gets him special favors," JJ explained quietly.

"Well, then. Now what?" Emily asked.

"The plane won't be ready until later today. We could..." JJ trailed off.

"We could what?" asked Morgan.

"We could go back to Restwood and see Babcia Lidka. She could tell us the stories that these kids got wrapped up in."

"Could be fun," Rossi mused.

"Fun?" Morgan teased him "hearing stories about made up creatures?"

"A good story is a good story. According to just about everyone in town, Babcia Lidka tells damn good stories. Besides, it beats sitting around here or the hotel until we leave."

They quickly packed up the conference room, said their good byes to Detective Thomas and Morris and made their way to Restwood Homes.

*******************

The stories from before are all the ones told to set up the atmosphere for the rest of them. The whys and wherefores answered before the stories of fun. Those stories can be applied to most Werecreatures, the rest of my stories are specific to Were Foxes, they are the only ones I have experience with.

Most of my stories take place in my village in Poland. Kije. A lovely place, rolling hills, beautiful forests. 

The fox family had a lovely burrow not that far away from my house. As a child, I played with the fox kits. They were quite imaginative, in both forms. We often played tag or keep away. Once or twice we had contests to see who could climb the highest in a tree.

Every Saturday the family would come to the village as humans and attend Synagogue. 

I think more people had issues with them because they were Jewish than the fact that they weren't human! They were lovely though.

After their services were over, they would go back to the woods, passing my home on the way. Most of the time the kits would come and ask if I could play, my parents always let me as long as my chores were done.

I would love to tell you only happy stories, but the truth is the happy stories are rare.

I last saw the fox family in the spring of 1939.

The Nazis had been passing laws making life very difficult for Jews. Although I suspect that is something of an understatement. Most Jews were rounded up and taken to ghettos. I remember standing with my family and watching as they were forced aboard trucks. I didn't see the fox family there. I remember being happy that they had remained hidden in the forest.

But, there's always a but. Some of the villagers who didn't like the Jews told the Nazis that there was a family living in the woods. They didn't know where, just that they came to the village to do their shopping and worship. At the time, very few of us knew that the family wasn't human.

The Nazis went door to door, questioning everyone about the family. They sent out search parties into the woods. They never found anything. 

One day, while I was out picking mushrooms, I happen to be near the burrow. I thought I would risk it and check on them. They were gone. The burrow had been destroyed, probably at the feet of the Nazi troops.

There were no signs of the fox family and shortly after, the majority of the Nazi troops left. A few remained and continued to look for them, but they had no success. 

Thank goodness. Could you just imagine if the Nazis had gotten hold of Werecreatures in the concentration camps?

Thank goodness that didn't happen.

My family and I left Kije not long after. The rumors of what was happening to the Jews were too much, my parents would not sit by and let their government, especially one that invaded their country, do such horrible things to its people. 

We, and several other families, snuck over the border into the Soviet Union. At the time, it was terrifying. Now I look back and I remember the terror... but I also remember the excitement of the adventure. 

We stayed in a small village there for a little less than a year. The only thing memorable about the whole place was that there were several Polish refugees and we had to be careful to avoid any undo notice. Just because the Soviets were Allies did not mean they wanted foreigners in their country.

We had just managed to get passage from the Soviet Union into Sweden, I remember my father telling us stories about how we would then try to get to America. Oh, the stories he had about life here. We would later learn that he was wrong about a lot of things. But he was also right.

It was the night before we were set to leave, there was a knock at the back door. We didn't use that door, in fact we had it barricaded with a big heavy bookshelf. Papa had to go around the front to see what was happening. He came back with a letter. Said that there was no one there, just a single set of foot prints.

The letter was from the fox family. They wanted us to know they had gotten out and all were safe. They just happen to be traveling near the town when they caught our scent and wanted us to know. They were headed to America, going to stay with family. Such a happy time it was for us, we had been so worried. 

**********************

"I never saw another Were after that, at least not one that I knew about. But I remember the stories they told me, and the adventures I had with them. Now I pass them on the my grandchildren and the children in town. Trying to keep a memory alive, I suppose. I never expected anyone to use the stories for evil though." Lidka ended her story, looking down at her lap sadly.

"You couldn't have known, Babcia," JJ soothed.

"I suppose not, it doesn't really stop the guilt though. I do love being able to tell adults about the stories though, children are nice but sometimes they can't hear the most important ones. I have to edit out the parts about the war for the children at the library. Then I have to edit out the parts about the Weres when I give presentations for the Holocaust at the schools."

"They're fascinating," Reid said. "The stories almost make it sound logical. That there should be a species of people who can change into animals." He smiled suddenly. "Just think how it would alter interpretations of the Reynard stories and all of Aesop's fables. They were meant to teach, but if they were actually about real people? I wonder what my mom will have to say about it. "

Before anyone could answer, Hotch's phone rang. A short conversation followed and he hung up quickly. "The plane will be ready in about thirty minutes, we should head out now." He turned to Babcia, "Thank you for the stories, it's been a lovely afternoon."

The others expressed their thanks as well and headed out of Babcia's apartment.

"Wait!" She called, "Agent Hotchner! Wait just a moment."

Hotch paused and headed back inside, waving the others to keep going. He remained talking to Babcia for several minutes, making his way to the cars just as the BAU team was starting to think of sending someone in to fetch him.

"Are we ready?" he asked, sliding into the driver's seat of the first car. 

"Yep, let's go home!" Garcia grinned.

********************

They were all settled on the plane, each relaxing in their own way. Reid, JJ, and Emily had started up a card game. Morgan was watching while listening to his music. Garcia was 'helping' JJ and Emily by stealing snacks from the pot. Rossi was making his personal notes about the case, and Hotch was working on paperwork.

"Hey, Hotch," Morgan called suddenly.

"Yes?" he replied, barely looking up from his paperwork.

"What did Babcia Lidka need to see you about?"

The others looked up, intrigued. 

"She did seem rather insistent to see you," Rossi said with a grin, "Maybe it's time to start dating again." He winked.

"I don't know, Dave. I think Babcia might be too worldly for our Hotch," Emily teased.

Hotch just glared at them and continued with his forms.

"No, Hotch, really. What did she want?" Garcia asked, moving from the table to sit closer to the unit chief.

"You're not going to drop this, are you?" he asked with a sigh.

"Not unless you really want us thinking that you two will be the new It couple."

Hotch carefully put the cap on his pen, and shifted so he could see the entire team. "She wanted to give me some papers."

"Papers about what? More Were stores?" Rossi asked with an eyebrow wiggle.

"No. My grandparents were from Kije. She had some things the family that I don't have and didn't know."

"You're..." Morgan trailed off. "She did ask about your name. Said names were important. It was after hearing it that she told us about the kids."

Garcia looked shocked, "Did you... did you lose anyone in the camps, sir?" she asked hesitantly.

"No, Garcia," Hotch reassured. "My grandparents came to America after World War I. They were joined by a great uncle and his family in the forties. It just so happens that Babcia knew them and had some newspaper clippings and letters from them. She wanted me to have them."

"That was nice of her," Emily said. 

"It was. Now, any other questions or can I get back to work?"

Everyone grumbled and turned back to their own activities, leaving Hotch to smile at his paperwork.

*********************

It was good to be home. It always was after a case. This one had been relatively easy compared to some of the others, but the implications. That there were people out there purposely hunting Were Foxes had shaken Hotch to his core.

Meeting Babcia Adams had been fantastic. She knew far more stories about his own family than he did. Before they team left for the airport, she had managed to sneak out notes, letters, all sorts of things she had about his family. She also gave him her contact information in case he had more questions.

He smiled again at the thought of the tough, old lady. She'd been through a lot in her life, but was still positive and upbeat. He imagined that's what Garcia will be like later in life. He hopes he's there to see it.

But now, he needs to stay in the present. 

They're home early enough that he picks Jack up from soccer practice.

His son is thrilled to see him and spends the entire drive home chattering about his week. 

At home, he unloads their bags from the car while Jack runs ahead to the door.

"Hang on, buddy. I've got to unlock to door."

Once inside, Hotch began his daily ritual of shedding the office. Off came the tie, jacket, and shoes. He carried them up the stairs, picking up Jack's discarded shoes on his way. Not long after, he was comfortably dressed and heading to Jack's bedroom. 

There he found a small foxling chewing on an old stuffed animal.

"Jack," Hotch said sternly.

The foxling looked up, startled. He spit out the toy and pouted up at his father.

"Jack," Hotch repeated, crossing his arms, "why didn't you wait for me?" To the foxling's delight, his father shifted into his own fox form. Hotch gave himself a shake, then darted forward, stealing the stuffed animal from Jack and taking off through the door.

Jack yipped in excitement and chased after his father.

Their game continued until Jack collapsed tiredly in the living room. His father joined him, curling around his foxling. He reminded himself that while death and violence was always happening, he and his son were safe.


End file.
